The Wistful Ashes
Chapter One Did you see him in the mist, or was it only the shape of your own hunger? The question hung in the damp air of the archive, heavier than the file folders I stacked on the linoleum floor. I am Caitriona Kavanagh, and I have been here for twelve years, sorting the dead into their proper drawers. The city of Mayo is not what it was during the Revolution, nor is it what the tourists...
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